


What about--?

by yodasyoyo



Series: Tumblr fics [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek simultaneously finds Stiles annoying and entrancing??, Fuckin' goobers, M/M, These idiots are in love with each other and they don't even know it yet, idek what to tag tbh, it's just a tiny little fluffy ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 06:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17720330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/pseuds/yodasyoyo
Summary: “Werehippo? Werehamster?” Stiles leans forward, his seat belt straining against his chest. “I know, I know– Werebear.”“Yes, Stiles. Werebears. Werebears exist. That’s definitely a thing.”





	What about--?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a tiny little tumblr ficlet I wrote for Sterekvalentineweek on tumblr. Written for the prompt Bear/Bare.
> 
> I'm archiving it here because if I don't it'll be lost on tumblr and I'll never find it again

“What about werechickens?”  
  
Derek’s jaw clenches even tighter, he exhales noisily through his nose and turns to look out of the Jeep’s window. Not that there’s much to see, the street is empty, the night sky clouded over.  As he watches it starts to rain again. Drops of water drum against the windshield, and the orange light of the street lamp lends everything an eerie glow.   
  
“Werehippo? Werehamster?” Stiles leans forward, his seat belt straining against his chest. “I know, I know– Werebear.”

“Yes, Stiles. Werebears. Werebears exist. That’s definitely a thing.”

“Really?” Stiles’ mouth stretches wide in a grin. He fist pumps in victory. “Seriously?”

“No.” Derek smiles a little meanly, and Stiles’ shoulders slump.

“Awww. Are ya sure?”

Truthfully, Derek isn’t sure about much. Sure, he’s a born wolf, but most of his family is gone and the only one that remains who might know is spectacularly unhelpful at best, and probably a sociopath at worst. 

Still. 

He’s pretty sure that werebears aren’t a thing. Like maybe ninety percent sure.  
  
Ok– Eighty. 

Seventy-five. 

Not that he’d ever admit that to Stiles.

“Who do you think would win in a fight between a werebear and a werehamster?” Stiles says, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, and peering out the window at the building they’re watching.  
  
Everything about this conversation is awful. Derek has been stuck in the Jeep next to Stiles for what feels like hours. Is the maybe-incubus dude they’re tracking ever gonna leave his apartment? Or is Derek gonna be trapped in this car forever, listening to Stiles  _fucking_ Stilinski’s deranged ramblings.  
  
“You see,” Stiles says, “I figure everyone’s gonna say werebear, right? Because the claws and the size and the general RAWR–” He lifts his hands, fingers bent like claws, his teeth bared. “– But. But. Consider. Hamsters are smaller and faster. And like think of those front teeth, dude!”  
  
“There’s no way a werebear gets beaten by a werehamster,” Derek says flatly. “Bears are stronger.”

“Speed!” Stiles insists. “Dexterity. Werehamsters would be like the rogues of the were community. Able to get out of any situation. I had a hamster when I was seven and it escaped from it’s cage like every week–”

“Rogues? This isn’t fucking D&D, ok? And a werebear would squish a werehamster like a bug.”

“So you admit they do exist!” Stiles points one knobbly finger in Derek’s face triumphantly, and Derek knocks it away with his hand.

“No. They don’t– This is theoreti–” He takes in a deep breath. “You know what? Forget it.”

“You just–”

“Stop talking.”

“But–”

“I  _will_ kill you.”  
  
“I can’t believe this is how I’m spending Valentine’s Day,” Stiles mutters. Slumping in his seat he subsides into wounded silence.

Derek tries to ignore him, to let the quiet wash over him. Lets his head thunk back against his seat, and tries to enjoy it, but it’s no good. Stiles is funking up the car with his scent, all moody and frustrated and a little– sad?  
  
When did that start to matter?

Why does he care whether Stiles is sad? 

He shouldn’t care.

Fuck.  
  
Fuck it he does, though. Stiles is sad, and Derek feels guilty.  
  
Goddamn.  
  
With a sigh, Derek reaches into his leather jacket pulls out a Three Musketeers bar, unwraps it, breaks it in two and silently offers one half to Stiles.  
  
After a beat, Stiles takes it.  
  
For a long moment there’s nothing but the sound of them both chewing.  
  
“Weregoat vs weresquirrel?” Derek says eventually.  
  
Stiles cuts him a look out the corner of his eye. “What type of squirrel?“  
  
“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

Derek settles back in his seat and sighs. “Red.”  
  
“Then the squirrel wins.”

“Seriously?”  
  
“Seriously.”  
  
”But goats–”  
  
”Those red motherfuckers are vicious– I have an aunt in New Hampshire and she once saw one–”  
  
-  
  
They wait the rest of the night, and the maybe-incubus guy never shows, somehow it doesn’t seem to matter. They spend the entire evening playing Theoretical Were Creature Fight Club. By the end of the evening Stiles seems much happier, and Derek grudgingly has to admit that it’s the best Valentine’s Day he’s had in– well– ever.

-

Three weeks later a werebear joins the Beacon Hills Sheriff Department and Stiles comes over to Derek’s apartment that same night specifically to gloat about it, he’s both overjoyed and insufferable.  
  
_Well,_  Derek thinks as the sound of Stiles’ laughter fills his apartment, scent warm and golden and happy,   _maybe not insufferable._  

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a tiny piece of nonsense. I hope you enjoyed it. If you read it and think it's worth a kudos or a comment then I am eternally grateful to you, you guys are the best :D
> 
> Also definitely check out the other Sterek Valentine Week works and show them all the love!!


End file.
